The Ghost Huntress
by TS Rosewood
Summary: MARYSUE.A paranormal investigator goes to Whipstaff, unprepared for what awaits her.
1. Chapter 1

Ok, this will be the ONLY time I say this, so listen up. I do NOT own Casper or anything/one/place affiliated.

* * *

Kyrie knew better than to come home this late. The lights were off, but that didn't mean her father was asleep. He could be waiting for her, but she hoped not.

_**Please let him be asleep, or passed out, or something.**_

She quietly unlocked the apartment door. She opened it far enough for her to squeeze through. Kyrie shifted her leather pack so she could sneak through the opening.

_**Thank god it didn't squeak this time**_.

She tip-toed down the hallway, passed the kitchen door on the right.

_**So far, so good**_

She silently passed the living room on the left.

_**Doing great, one more to go.**_

She snuck as quietly as she knew how passed her father's bedroom door, and hurriedly scampered into her room, at the end of the hall. Kyrie slowly let out the breath she had been holding.

_**Maybe he's out playing poker. At least he didn't catch me with my goodies **_**this**_** time.**_

Kyrie loved her father, but like most people, he feared what he didn't understand. He was a loving man, and had always supported her in her various activities, minus one. Her father drew the line at her dealings with the dead and magic.

She sighed.

_**He'll never understand.**_

Kyrie sat on her bed and began to rummage through her bag. She pulled out a shrunken head and placed it on her night stand. She gazed at it for a second before returning to the pack. Kyrie then retrieved a worn old book, a small draw-string bag filled with stones, and a charming little gargoyle statue. After placing her new trinkets on the shelf space she had left, she glanced around her room.

_**Maybe I should think about getting rid of some of this stuff. It does take up a lot of room. **_

Lining two of her walls were large bookshelves that reached almost to the ceiling. Along the shelves were Kyrie's diverse knick-knacks like her voodoo doll collection, and her sets of Runes. Also adorning the shelves were other various items like a family of shrunken heads, bottles of remedies, daggers, and even a beautiful amethyst-colored crystal ball.

After adjusting her new stuff to her satisfaction, Kyrie placed her worn out leather sack on her night stand and fell into bed, dirty sneakers and all.

She rolled over and gazed at the ceiling. Its popcorn texture didn't hide the water damage, or the small patches of mold all over the place. As Kyrie stared at the various oddities on her ceiling, her mind drifted.

Images of death swirled before her. Decaying corpses and spirits from the beyond clouded her thinking with their mysterious allure. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was racing at the speed of light.

She thought about how the graveyard looked when the season changed from summer to fall, how the trees would shake in the wind, and how the nightly fog made the scene more sinister than it really was. She journeyed through the tombstones time and time again, not only in her mind, but in the real world also.

She would explore each inch of the graveyard, read every name on every tombstone. She would amble through the graveled paths, stopping to gaze at the stars. Kyrie would often bring flowers or little trinkets to lie on one particular headstone. She'd sit and relax for a bit and talk to her mother. She hadn't really known her mother; she'd died when Kyrie was still relatively young. She had known her only through pictures, and her father's constant ramblings of "the good old days." Her mother had been a beautiful woman. Kyrie shared her intense green eyes and the oval shape of her face, along with her full lips and long, brown hair.

After her visits to the graveyard, Kyrie would sometimes stop at her favorite store, Myra's Goods. The shop specialized in the odd and eccentric, and it was here that she attained her knick-knacks. Myra knew her by name, and always saved the newest stuff for her "best" customer to pick through. Kyrie then would proceed home, normally in the wee hours of the morning.

She felt at home when surrounded by things most would consider strange, and she hadn't yet been able to figure out why. The strange had a mysterious pull for Kyrie; it was like she couldn't avoid it even if she wanted to. Odd things always seemed to happen to or around her, but that was perfectly fine.

Of all the weird things she loved, Kyrie was most fond of ghosts.

She was a member of a local group, aptly named The Ghost Hunters. She hadn't been on many ghost hunts, but the few she had she'd loved. She'd taken tons of pictures and consequently had filled numerous scrapbooks with her "ghost pictures." They ranged from mild, featuring orbs or "fog," to the extreme, featuring detailed bodies and faces. In her favorite picture, she got an entire body shot of a woman in a long dress holding a basket.

The group she was apart of had started a website and it had numerous members scattered all over the United States. One such member lived in a little town named Friendship, Maine. It was through this member's postings that Kyrie learned of Whipstaff.

He claimed that Whipstaff was haunted by four _extremely _active ghosts. This had peeked Kyrie's interest. The user went on to tell about the father and daughter that lived there, and the many incidents that happened around the home. The stories really got her excited, and by the time she scrolled to the bottom of the page, she could barely sit still.

_**It's going to be so hard to sleep tonight.**_

Kyrie looked over at her alarm clock.

_**Wow, its 3:00 already?**_

She reached over and set the alarm for 8:00.

_**That should be enough time to get to the airport.**_

Kyrie rolled onto her side and cuddled against her pillow, and slowly drifted to sleep, thinking of the adventure that awaited her.


	2. Chapter 2

Gravel crunched under Kyrie's feet as she made her way up the mansion's long driveway. It had taken her seemingly forever to get here, thanks to delays and other problems at the airport, and she hoped this place was worth all the trouble. It was very beautiful outside, the Maine weather couldn't have been more perfect for her arrival, and Kyrie thanked the gods for her luck. She could see the mansion as she approached, perched on the cliff's edge. The sun was fading into afternoon, and reflected quite lovely off of the water beyond the house. The home itself featured very interesting architecture and Kyrie couldn't quite place the era the old building had been erected. Many stone sculptures were about. Though most were cracked and disfigured, Kyrie spotted a couple of swans and what perhaps had been a gargoyle or two.

She made her way up the old front stairs and rapped sharply on the door, hearing the echo from inside. She waited a few moments and when no one answered she peeked in the window to the side. She saw nothing, though the place looked as though someone had been living in it. She turned to look for a car in the drive, and besides seeing her rental car, Kyrie spotted an old Studebaker parked to the side of some bushes. Kyrie wondered where the Doctor and his daughter were. Suddenly she heard someone running inside, and in a few seconds the creaky door swung open, revealing a young woman with long, dark hair. She appeared to be in her late teens, possibly seventeen or eighteen, a full four or five years younger than Kyrie. She wore a pair of jeans and a light blue tank top, which complemented her young figure and dark features well.

"Oh, hi, can I help you?" The girl asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"My name is Kyrie, I called earlier about taking a few pictures," Kyrie responded, shifting her camera bag from one shoulder to the other.

"Oh, yeah, I just wasn't expecting you so soon, my name's Kat."

She extended her hand, and Kyrie took it, shaking firmly.

"I'm Kyrie, pleased to meet you."

Kat stepped aside, allowing Kyrie entrance to the massive foyer.

"Please come in, I'll show you around."

Kyrie stepped into the foyer, admiring the intricacy of the floor, and the lovely stained glass windows. She gasped at the beauty of the home; it was remarkable that so much of the house had been preserved so well.

_**I expected a shoddy old shack of a mansion, and look at what I get!! This is going to be wonderful. It looks like this home has so much history. I should get some great pictures.**_

She turned to Kat.

"So, can you tell me anything interesting about the house? Like some of its history?"

Kat shook her head.

"Uh, I don't really know all that much about it, but I do know someone who would, but...umm… well… you don't scare easy, do you?"

Kyrie looked at the girl confusedly. Slowly, she shook her head.

"Not really, why do you ask?"

Kat shuffled nervously, her sandals scuffing on the floor.

"Well, I don't really think it would be good if you screamed at him is all. He gets that a lot."

Becoming more confused, Kyrie cocked her head to the side.

"What is he some kind of mutant or something? Got two heads or an extra arm?"

Kat giggled and shook her head vehemently.

"No, no, nothing like that. He's...well…he's a ghost."

Kyrie's eyebrows shot to the ceiling.

"A ghost? You mean you can actually_ talk_ to the spirits here and they answer you? How bizarre, never heard of that before."

Kat shrugged.

"Yeah, but sometimes they don't just talk. The trio can cause all kinds of hell when they want to, but you'll probably find that out soon enough."

Kyrie bubbled with excitement.

_**Oh, this is going to be a great investigation. Maybe I can even test out some of my newer equipment.**_

"Ok, first I'll show you my dad's office, he should be in there, and I'll be able to introduce you."

Kyrie nodded.

"That sounds great. Let's go."

Kyrie followed Kat down through the foyer and around a few twists and turns in the hallway, and finally they reached a large double oak entryway. Kat lightly pushed on the doors, and they opened revealing a large library, filled to the brim with books.

_**Oh, wow, wish I had a place like this in my house. I don't think I'd ever leave.**_

"Hey, dad," Kat called to a man hunched over a stack of papers.

He was sitting in an old chair in front of a desk, close to the back of the room. He looked up and Kyrie got a good look at Dr. Harvey, renowned psychologist, both to the living and deceased. His framed glasses were hanging on his nose, and his shirt was untucked. His hair was a catastrophe. He had visible stubble, and Dr. Harvey looked like he needed a good nap, for say, eight to ten hours. His unkempt appearance made Kyrie internally giggle, how was a man supposed to be professional, looking like he did?

"What is it, bucket?" He questioned Kat.

He then seemed to notice Kyrie, for he stood up to greet her.

"Dad, this is Kyrie, you know, that woman I told you about. The one that wants to have a look around the mansion."

"Oh yes, well, welcome, Miss. Kyrie. I assume you haven't met any of the other residents yet?"

Kyrie shook her head, freeing a strand or two of hair from her messy bun. She stepped forward and shook hands with Dr. Harvey.

"No, not yet, but Kat here has warned me that a few of your ghosties may cause me some trouble."

He nodded.

"Yes, you'll want to be very wary of your surroundings while here. We have a few _friends_ that would love nothing more than to scare the daylights out of you."

Kyrie giggled.

"Honestly Dr. Harvey, you make it sound as though you're living with mischievous children rather than the undead."

Dr. Harvey nodded.

"Yes, it certainly seems that way sometimes. Well, Kat you two go ahead and I hope you enjoy the place Miss. Kyrie."

"Thank you, Dr. Harvey. I guess I'll see you later."

He nodded again while pushing his glasses back up on his nose.

"Ok, dad, See ya," Kat called as the two walked back out the library doors.

"Bye, bucket, and be careful."

Kyrie waved as they exited, and was anxious for Kat to start her tour.

"So Kat, how about that tour?"

"Well, we should probably get Casper first, he can be a real help."

_**She's talking like he's someone living, not a ghost. Weird little kid, but I guess I have no room to talk. **_

Kyrie simply nodded.

"Alright then, where is he?"

Kat shrugged.

"Dunno…. CAAAAASPER!"

Kat's sudden scream made Kyrie jump. Suddenly Kyrie felt a rush of cold wind pass her. She shivered and looked to Kat, utterly surprised.

_**Has this girl actually called to a **_**ghost**_**? Strange indeed. **_

It was then that Kyrie noticed the floating object next to Kat. It was definitely a ghost, but seemed a little strange looking. Kyrie gasped in surprised.

"Casper, this is Kyrie. She wants to look around."

The ghost turned to Kyrie, she noticed his bright eyes and he smiled at her. Kyrie jumped when the ghost actually spoke to her.

"Nice to meet you, Kyrie, I'm Casper."

"Um, nice to meet you to."

"So, why do you want to look around?"

"Well, I'm a sort of paranormal investigator. I go to supposed haunted places and either confirm or deny the haunting. This is the first one I've gone to by myself."

_**A ghost is **_**talking**_** to me. This is no normal haunting, what have I gotten myself into?**_


	3. Chapter 3

After about a half hour of touring Whipstaff, Kyrie had begun to get comfortable with Casper's presence. The little ghost was indeed friendly, and as helpful as Kat described him to be. He seemed to enjoy being a tour guide, and excitedly pointed out everything of interest inside the Manor.

_**Wow, never knew a ghost could be so…lively.**_

Kyrie chuckled to herself at the lame play on words, and snapped a few quick pictures of Casper leaning over an old sled. The attic was huge, and filled with interesting antiques and knick-knacks.

The infamous trio had yet to make an appearance, and Kyrie began to wonder when they'd show up. Kat and Casper had warned her and warned her, but she had yet to see any action that would constitute as a danger, and she began to think this trio wasn't as troublesome as everyone thought.

No soon as the thought left her brain, so to speak, a loud bang came from somewhere in the house, followed by hysterical laughter. Kat and Casper exchanged glances and then looked to their guest.

"So, I'm guessing that's the trio," Kyrie stated to no one in particular.

Kat nodded.

"Yeah, that's probably them, and from the sound of it, they're in the library."

_**I wonder how she can tell. It sounded to me like it could've come from anywhere. This girl must really know her way around.**_

"Well, shall we go meet them?"

Casper gave her an astonished look.

"You actually want to meet them? They're not going to be very happy about you being here, they're not very fond of …well…_anyone_ really," He affirmed.

"Well, I came here to see ghosts, and ghosts I shall see. So lead the way, oh mistress of the mansion."

She dramatically bowed and swept a hand toward the attic entrance. Kat giggled at her theatrics and lead the path to the library, where it was obvious the good doctor needed some assistance.

Currently the poor man was hanging from the second level's railing. Books were flying in almost every direction and maniacal laughter rang through the room, though there were no bodies to attach to the laughter.

"Dad, are you ok?!" Kat yelled as she ran for the stairs.

"'Course he's fine, he jus' _hangin'_ _around_," an invisible voice called to Kat as she scrambled up the steps to help her dangling father.

Kyrie stepped tentatively through the doors, Casper floating behind her. The trio quickly became visible at various parts of the room, and a ghost with a rather large nose was apparently not happy to see Kyrie.

"HEY! Who the 'ell is dis? And what da 'ell is she doin in _my_ house?!"

_**Oh boy. It just keeps getting weirder. **_

Kat helped pull Dr. Harvey back over the railing and Kyrie stepped farther into the room, curious about the trio. She stared up at the big-nosed ghost; Kyrie noticed he had strange colored eyes, a hue that could be described as rich wine.

_**That must be Stretch. **_

She then looked over to another, smaller ghost. His teeth stuck out from his lip.

_**Ah. And that's Stinkie.**_

Then she spotted the more…stout… ghost of the group.

_**And lastly Fatso. **_

"Hey, I axed you a question, _bone bag_. Who in the 'ell do you think you are, comin' inta_ my_ house wit-out _my_ permission?"

Kyrie locked eyes with the ghost, not about to be intimidated by some two-bit spook.

"You listen here, _dead beat_. I don't care who you are or whose house you _think _it is, you are _not _going to speak to _me_ like that."

Silence.

Kyrie stared down the leader of the trio as he descended to her level. They met eye-to-eye, and the tension in the room escalated to an almost palpable level.

"What did ya say ta me, ya no good blood balloon?" Stretch asked, his voice laced with poison.

"You heard me, loud and clear, you worthless excuse for a ghost" Kyrie uttered.

If she had been paying proper attention to her surroundings instead of one fuming ghost, Kyrie would've noticed a rather sneaky, smelly ghost creep up behind her. Kat attempted to warn her, but when Kyrie turned from a poking on her shoulder, she was hit with a green cloud of belch.

She blinked a couple of times, and then coughed lightly. A quizzical expression crossed Stinkie's face.

_**She's not even winded in the slightest?! That was one of the worst burps I've ever had!!**_

"What the hell was that?!" Kyrie screeched at Stinkie, obviously not fazed by the ghost's attempt to disgust her, but distracted long enough for Stretch to formulate a plan.

Stretch took the opportunity to grab Kyrie by her shirt and drag her through the library doors, while she kicked and screamed in frustration. The doors slammed shut and the other two of the trio fled the room, following their leader.

Kat and Casper followed in hot pursuit. After a few winding hallways they heard maniacal laughter from the foyer. Kat busted through the doors to see Kyrie let out some colorful phrases as she was swept to the highest corner of the room, held onto by a wickedly grinning Stretch.

"Ya still think I'm worthless? Huh?" Stretch asked.

Kyrie froze as she saw the distance between her and the floor.

_**Oh, I hate heights…**_

The trio laughed again, noting her shaking form as she estimated how many bones the fall would break.

"Awww, whatsa matta? Little _ghoulie_ scared of heights?" Fatso prodded, he round form darting around the kitchen.

"Must be, look at da way she's shakin," Stinkie added flying close to Kyrie's dangling low-tops.

"Well den, I guess I betta let her go den, whadda think, Stinkie?" Stretch asked.

Kyrie shook her head.

_**No, no…that would be bad.**_

"Yea, Stretch. Since she don't like it up here, why dontcha let her go?"

"Yea let her go!" Fatso added.

Kyrie shook her head again.

_**Oh, this is going to hurt…**_

Stretch released Kyrie, reveling in the scream she let loose on her plunge.

Casper quickly flew under Kyrie as she fell, and caught her, abruptly halting her fatal descent. Kyrie shook slightly as he set her back on solid ground. She looked up to the trio, now laughing hysterically in the upper corner of the room. She leaned her head down and some of her hair fell in front of her face, covering the glowering look in her eye. She clinched her hands so hard her knuckles turned white.

Kyrie was_ pissed_.

Casper and Kat looked on as Kyrie walked to the hallway entrance, stopping at the end table to the right of the archway. After setting her camera into the oak surface, she grabbed a heavy looking vase and hurled it toward the trio. The trio stopped laughing as the missile came towards them, barely dodging it as the vase shattered against the wall, flinging splinters of porcelain on the floor.

Stinkie and Fatso looked to their leader, who was scowling at the small woman with her hands on her hips.

"You gotta lot of nerve, you air-sucking skin sack," Stretch spat.

"What're you gonna do about it? It's not like you can even see me over that huge beak on your face."

He growled at the young woman. Stinkie and Fatso retreated slightly, not wanting to be within arms distance of an obviously pissed off Stretch.

"Alright, you little tramp. I think its high-time you learned a lesson; not to mess wit the ghostly trio."

He flew straight at her, not noticing the small smirk creeping onto her face. Kat and Casper worriedly looked on as Kyrie reached into her jean pocket. She withdrew a small stone no bigger than a quarter, but rounded and crystal-clear. She threw it at Stretch as he neared. As the stone passed through him, Stretch froze, midair.

Everyone looked from Kyrie, back to Stretch, back to Kyrie with open-mouthed stares.

It was Stinkie who eventually broke the silence.

"Wha…wha….what didja do to him?"

Kyrie shrugged.

"Just a bit of magic. Should wear off in a few hours or so. He'll be pissed, but otherwise fine," She explained.

"Ma-magic? So you're a w…w…witch?" Fatso implored.

Kyrie shook her head, watching as the two ghosts visibly relaxed. Kat approached her as Kyrie explained.

"No, but I've got a friend that is. Her name's Myra."

Casper went to his petrified uncle and placed a translucent finger to his face. He was definitely solid, and cold as expected. Kyrie bowed slightly as Kat reached her, and continued,

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few things I'm going to retrieve from my car. Be back in a jiffy."

The small teen nodded, still dumbfounded. Kyrie strolled out of the kitchen, leaving three confused ghosts, one pissed off specter, and an interested young lady in her wake.


	4. Chapter 4

Casper watched as Kyrie typed away on her laptop. Strands of brown hair tumbled in front of her face as her fingers flew across the keyboard.

"What're you doing?" Casper questioned Kyrie.

She looked up from the computer screen to the small ghost at her shoulder. She looked back to the computer screen, and typed while explaining.

"Well, I was just writing down a few notes. Since I'm here by myself I thought I'd jot down everything that's happened so far, so I can remember for later."

Casper nodded in understanding. He let Kyrie to her business as he gazed around the room. The walls were a rich brown color, and bedecked with exuberant décor. Paintings of surreal landscapes and foreign lands hung above rich mahogany furniture. The fireplace was dark and covered in spider webs, like the rest of the room. Kyrie sat on her computer at the study's desk while Kat lounged on one of the armchairs, entranced with a Rubik's cube. Casper floated to her side, hovering just above the chair's arm and he gazed on as Kat fiddled with the small square. Her brow was crinkled in concentration and her tongue stuck out at the side of her mouth, held between her teeth. A few moments ticked away in silence, save for the rapid clicking of Kyrie's fingers on the keyboard.

Casper opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a loud ringing noise.

Both Casper and Kat looked to Kyrie, to see her frantically digging in the bag on the floor next to her chair. She pulled a small cell phone out of the bag and flipped it open, placing it to her ear.

"Hello?" Kyrie spoke into the phone.

Kat and Casper looked on as she carried on a short chat.

"Yeah….yeah….no, I'm fine, Dad….yeah, ok…I will…Love you too," Went her half of the conversation. Kyrie shook her head, a half-smile on her face. She replaced the phone in her worn-out sack, before turning to the curious duo. She shrugged.

"He worries." Kat nodded in understanding.

"I can understand that. My dad won't let me leave the house without breaking down my complete itinerary for him."

"Don't worry; it'll get better once he realizes you're actually _growing up_." She gestured to her bag. "But if you have a cell, always take it with you. If Dr. Harvey is anything like my dad, he'll have the whole armed forces out looking for you if you're not home by dark."

Kat giggled, returning the sly grin on Kyrie's face.

"Well, I think I'm done with the notes for now…you guys up for being tour guides again?"

Kat rose from her comfortable spot on the lounge and walked to Kyrie's side, throwing the cube to the chair. Casper joined them, hovering at Kat's right side.

"Sure, if you're ready, we're ready."

Kyrie grabbed her camera from the desk and followed her guides out of the room.

The rest of the tour proceeded without incident, until the guides and their photographer ran out of rooms in which to document.

"So what now?" Casper asked.

Kat shrugged.

"We could always go explore the cliffs," she suggested.

Kyrie nodded.

"That's a great idea; I could use some fresh air."

The three walked into the mansion's vast foyer and out the front door, and were immediately greeted by the bright Maine sun. A breeze picked up as they walked to the cliff's side and gazed out onto the sea. Wispy clouds dotted the blue sky, and the sea was a lovely shade of blue. A lone fishing boat coasted along the water, bobbing intermittently with the small waves. Closer to the craggy shoreline waves broke with their white tops and splashed against the sharp rocks. The smell and sound of the sea greeted the three as they walked along the edge of the cliff, not too close, but far enough to see the drop. They walked silently for a bit, and after a while Kat stopped and sat on the grass, looking towards the ocean. Casper lowered himself silently to the ground beside her, and took in the scenery. Kyrie kept walking, her camera snapping away at the scenery.

"So beautiful," Kat murmured. The wind tussled a few tendrils of her dark hair.

Casper nodded in agreement.

_**Not as beautiful as… **_

"Casper?" Kat interrupted his thought.

He turned his head to face her, and stared into her dark eyes.

"Hmm?"

She looked like something was weighing on her mind, it worried him. Casper knew if she wanted to talk about it, she would. He wouldn't press her. Hopefully she'd get whatever it was off of her chest.

Kat smiled faintly after a moment, and turned back to the sea. Kyrie had wandered off a bit, still photographing the cliffs.

"Never mind." She uttered.

_**Guess not. **_

Casper cast his gaze back to the water, which had turned an amber color. The setting sun cast a myriad of colors amongst the wispy clouds overhead, painting a masterpiece before their eyes. Seagulls cawed happily at each other, and flew towards the small orange orb slowly sinking below the horizon.

Casper reflected on the times he and Kat had spent like this, just the two of them. They were always happy memories, but it seemed something was missing. It had been like that since that fateful dance.

_**And the Kiss. **_

The kiss had haunted him ever since, the feeling of her warm, soft lips against his. It had sent him through a shockwave of unspeakable joy. After the fact, it had been horrible. Not being able to touch her, hold her as he held her while they dance around the foyer. It hadn't been the same between them since that day.

He and Kat were so close, yet so far apart. His soul ached everyday, for just one more day, one more kiss, one more chance to hold her. As the sun sank lower and cast the world into twilight Kat rose from her seat on the grass, which had become quite cool in the fading light. She pulled her jacket tighter around her and glanced to her ghostly companion with a small smile. Kyrie began walking back toward them, scanning the digital screen on her device. Her feet crunched on the crisp grass as she approached. Once the trio was reunited, they turned and began walking toward the mansion. Kyrie reached the front steps first, and proceeded inside the house. Kat began to enter the doorway, but Casper stopped her.

"Kat," he called to her. She turned abruptly to face him.

"Did you… want to talk?" He asked quietly.

Kat looked at him, intensely. A fire burned in her eyes, a look Casper recognized as longing mixed with sadness. She shook her head quickly, trying to hide the emotion in her eyes.

"Nah, Casper. Don't worry about it."

She turned back and stepped inside the door.

"Casper, you coming inside?" She leaned against the frame, looking to her friend.

He shook his head slowly.

"Nah, I'm going to go off for a while, I'll be back later," he replied softly.

Before Kat could object, Casper floated off towards the sea.


	5. Chapter 5

"Really? How long? …are you serious? Yes, well…thanks anyway," Kyrie sighed as she clicked her phone shut. She rubbed her forehead as she replaced the device into her bag. "Great," she muttered.

"Something wrong?" Kat questioned.

"…My flight's been cancelled. Apparently there's a really bad front of storms moving in from the west. Everything's been shut down until the day after tomorrow. Hertz is letting me keep my car for an extra day, no charge...But I'm going to have to call around and hope there's a reservation somewhere in town."

"Why don't you just stay here? It's not like we don't have the room for you," Dr. Harvey suggested.

"Really? Are you sure that's ok? I could just find a room at one of the hotels in town." Kyrie adjusted the bag on her shoulder. She'd just been saying goodbye to the Harveys when her phone rang.

"Sure, there's a bedroom that's mostly clean a few doors down from Casper's," Kat replied, her voice echoed weakly in the large library.

"Are you _sure_ it's ok?"

"It's no problem. There are spare sheets in my closet if you need them," Dr. Harvey remarked, turning back to the pile of papers on his desk.

"Here, we can take the shortcut." Kat led Kyrie up the library stairs to a large, mostly blank wall. Kat pressed on one side of the wall, and Kyrie watched in amazement as it turned.

"This place is just full of surprises," Kyrie muttered.

Kat smiled.

"You're tellin' me."

* * *

"Dat crazy dame, who the 'ell does she 'tink she is?!" Stretch ranted, slamming the shot glass down on the bar counter.

His brothers cowered slightly at his raised tone, ready for another onslaught of abuse. After Stretch had regained his mobility, Stinkie and Fatso had taken the brunt of his wrath, to their dismay. A good five minutes of flogging later his temper had not abated in the least, and Stretch grew bored of beating the ectoplasm out of his ghostly brethren. He went in search for the source of his animosity, but hadn't found her. So they found themselves at the bar, scaring away all but the drunkest of patrons. It had begun to rain outside, the wind picking up with the passing time.

Stretch continued his tirade.

"Comin' into _my_ house and walkin' around like she owns da damn place. I ought to teach dat no good ghoul a thing or two."

Stretch glared at the neon sign hanging behind the bar, his translucent jaw sternly set as he mumbled obscenities to himself and the shot glass in front of him. The distant roll of thunder rumbled through every surface of the bar, but the three ghosts paid no attention. Stinkie raised his head to the window, watching as a cluster of lightning bolts lit up the evening sky. An idea struck him.

"Hey, Stretch…why don't we go out scarin'? Ya know, a night on the town? This storm'll already have the fleshies on edge."

"Yeah, it'd be easy to scare the pants off 'em tonight," Fatso chimed.

Stretch perked up at the idea. His eyes glimmered with mischief. He turned to his brothers, smiling wide.

"Ey, that's a great idea, let's go give dis town the scare of the century."

The trio slung their glasses against the wall and flew out onto the night.

* * *

It was early morning before Kat heard the trio not-so-subtly announce their return. They cackled with glee as they entered the foyer, shrieking and being boisterous enough to wake the dead. They flew through the halls, yelling and screaming incoherently. Their screams could be heard over the almost constant roll of thunder, and occasional crack of lightning.

"They must've been out scaring again."

Kat jumped and yelped in surprise. She hadn't seen Casper lying at the end of her bed.

"Yeah, sounds like it." Kat agreed as she reached for her headphones. "Why can't they do it on the weekdays, when I actually _have _to get up early?"

Casper shrugged.

"Maybe it's a desperate cry for attention."

Kat laughed while untangling the cords to her headphones.

"Yeah, maybe they just need a hug. Positive reassurance that they're doing a good job…at being a royal pain in the ass."

It was Casper's turn to laugh.

"You sound like Dr. Harvey."

Kat moaned in disgust.

"Ugh, dad's finally invaded my subconscious."

She pushed the small black buds into her ears, and was about to press play when a voice cut through the trio's chaos.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!! It's seven-fucking-am!!"

Kat flinched as a loud crash echoed in the hallway. The house grew quiet for a few moments. Casper looked at Kat, his ghostly brows raised in shock.

"Well, I guess she's not a morning person."

It didn't take but a moment for Stretch's distinctly dulcet tones to start up; Kat leapt out of bed to follow Casper into the hallway.

* * *

"Where do you get da stones ta talk to me like dat? And what da hell are ya still doin' here, ya no good blood balloon?" Stretch screamed at the woman.

Her brown hair still rumpled from sleep, Kyrie scowled at the ghost as best she could through bleary green eyes. The clock she'd thrown at the trio lay in the hall, a yard away from where she currently stood. Its mechanical guts lay spewn across the garish floor runner in a gruesome display of the woman's intolerance for early mornings. Stretch's ghostly brethren flanked him to either side, watching the argument with interest.

"Piss off, beaky. Go rattle your chains somewhere else," Kyrie retorted, shifting her weight onto her other hip. Stinkie flinched at the insult, Fatso cowered back a foot or two.

Stretch fumed, his translucent cheeks turned a light shade of pink. His eyes spoke volumes of his animosity; he aimed the purple daggers at the woman standing boldly before him in polka dotted pajama bottoms.

Stretch closed the distance between them, pointing a nearly invisible finger into her face.

"Where do you get off, tellin' me what ta do in _my_ house?"

She pointed a contrastingly opaque finger back at him.

"Where do you get off, acting like king of the fucking world, huh? You don't own anything, you damn…"

"Hey, what's going on?" A somewhat sleepy voice interrupted.

Neither had noticed Dr. Harvey, or Casper and Kat. The three watched them from a safe distance, not wanting to come between the arguing pair. Both arguers lowered their respective digits, and Stretch rounded on the tired psychiatrist.

"What the hell is this skin sack still doin' stinkin' up my place, doc?"

Dr. Harvey pushed his glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose.

"Her flight out was cancelled, so instead of wasting money on a hotel room, she spent the night here," he replied, scratching the back of his neck.

"You just let her stay, without consultin' mefirst!"

"I suggest you take your temper elsewhere," Kyrie interrupted. Stretch turned, intending to start back up their tirade. He stopped once his eyes came upon her knuckles. He recognized the small gem she rolled across the backs of her fingers; it was identical to the one she'd thrown at him the previous day. She smirked, daring him to make his move. Stretch turned to leave, deciding he'd rather not spend the next few hours frozen solid.

"Dis ain't over, damn it," He called over his shoulder, as he and his brothers departed. Kyrie snickered.

"Oh, I'm sure," she muttered.

The trio exited via the floor, leaving the rest of the group to stand and stare at one another. Kyrie looked at her hosts, and smiled brightly. They returned her smile tentatively.

"So, who's ready for breakfast?"


End file.
